


Uncharted Territory

by pulpriter



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: AU/ future/ pulpverse; fluff-of-course, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-04
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-05-11 19:48:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 2,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5639743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pulpriter/pseuds/pulpriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phryne sorts it out</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Daft

**Author's Note:**

> "Anyone can be passionate, but it takes real lovers to be silly." ~Rose Franken
> 
> I have read some truly wonderful fanfiction this past month, thanks to all: many are due to the Ficathon, I believe. There are some marvelous writers in this fandom—you make me jealous!   
> I described this space and time in the tags as pulpverse because it is that odd place I sometimes choose to write about that doesn’t fit into any seasons or episodes. 
> 
> These characters are not mine, but they are hella fun to write about.

Dr. Elizabeth MacMillan was extremely irritated. She was glad this corpse happened to be part of a case that was entirely open-and-shut, because something was definitely wrong with the two visitors to her morgue.  
Her old friend Phryne Fisher, who usually started spinning scenarios on the spot, was distracted; the normally perspicacious Detective Inspector who accompanied her was fighting tooth and nail to train his attention on the proceedings. To make things worse, both of her visitors had a tendency to burst into smiles whenever their eyes met. Phryne’s smiles were direct and self-assured, but the Inspector’s could only be described as loopy—not a look Mac was accustomed to seeing on his face.

“That’s all there is to it,” Mac concluded her findings, regarding the corpse and the cause of death. “No mystery about this one.”  
She waited.

And waited. 

“Inspector?”  
“Hm? Oh—yes, I think I’ll let Collins handle this one,” he said, shaking himself briefly and dragging his attention to the subject at hand. He looked at Phryne for what Mac estimated to be the 327th time since the two of them had arrived ten minutes earlier. “Shall we go, then?”  
Phryne appeared to be ready to agree when Mac interrupted them. “Inspector, if you don’t mind, I’d like a word with Phryne alone.”  
“Oh—fine,” he said vaguely. With yet another loopy smile, he said to Phryne, “I’ll wait at the car.”  
Phryne smiled back fondly and said, “I won’t be long.” The Inspector nodded and wandered out the door, putting on his hat as he went.  
Mac thought it was a miracle that he could remember where he was meant to put it. 

Once he was gone, Mac rounded on Phryne. “What the hell have you done to him now?” she snarled. “He’s one of very few men I like to work with. I really wish you wouldn’t ruin him.” The faraway look in Phryne’s eyes only made things worse.  
Mac knew the two had been lovers for some time now, so that couldn’t be it. When they had come to the morgue the day after the first time, she had come close to throwing them both out, they were that hard to bear.  
A shocking thought came to her. “You’re not pregnant, are you?”  
“What?!” The faraway smile disappeared in a flash. “Mac! We’d hardly be happy about that—well, he might be, he’s a man, after all—but no, we’re taking every precaution. It’s not that.”  
“Then suppose you explain it to me. What has turned our intrepid Inspector’s brain to mush?”  
When Phryne came clean about it, Mac could hardly have been more amazed, so Phryne told her the whole story—at least, as much as Mac needed to know.


	2. Avowal

Jack and Phryne had been curled up together, replete from a particularly satisfying session of lovemaking. They had been lovers long enough to begin learning each others’ patterns and rhythms, and it was extremely comfortable to feel so much at ease together. Phryne laid her head against Jack’s shoulder, and he pulled her close, at the same time sighing a deep, contented sigh.  
“Ahh, Phryne,” he said softly—velvety and gravelly at once, she often thought. “You know I love you.” It was a statement. He wasn’t asking.  
He felt her tense against him, but he was prepared for that.  
“No, don’t panic,” he said easily. “I know it’s not something you would want to say. But it is something I’d like to say.” He opened his eyes and saw the dismay on her face. He smiled. “Don’t look so desperate! Nothing has to change.” He laid his head back on the pillow and relaxed against her. Nothing more was said. He did not seem to mind. 

Phryne did not speak of it, and life went on. They continued to grow closer. From time to time, it seemed to please Jack to tell her that he loved her, and she learned to relax when he did, and even sometimes to give him a small smile. It seemed to be enough.  
It was all very matter-of-fact, it seemed. We have a new case. Dot’s drop scones are delicious. I love you.  
She probably should have seen it coming. He had always been the first to proclaim his feelings, whether by words or actions: at Café Replique; after the car accident; when she flew away with her father…And each time, she had managed to deflect, and keep her own feelings to herself. 

One afternoon, Jack was enjoying a day off, relaxing in Phryne’s parlour and reading a new book. All of a sudden, Phryne came bursting in, full of tales of woe. She had gotten off on the wrong foot that morning with Dot, who was so touchy now that she was pregnant; while she was downtown shopping for a small gift to console Dot, the buckle on the strap of her shoe had broken and she had had to hobble along until she could hail a cab, whose driver was rude and unpleasant, not at all like Bert or Cec; because all this threw off her schedule, she had missed an appointment with Aunt Prudence, who had just blistered her ear over the phone when Phryne called to explain. Phryne tossed herself down onto the loveseat beside Jack.  
“And now I’m making myself unpleasant to you, too!” she fumed. “Interrupting you when all you want is a chance to relax and read.”  
Jack chuckled, put down his book, and pulled her into his arms. “You are anything but unpleasant as far as I’m concerned.” She snuggled against him, basking in the warmth of his…Yes. She had to admit it. He loved her, and she loved knowing that he did. It was wonderful: all the cares of her ridiculous day fell away when he held her like this.


	3. Extravagant

That night, in bed, Phryne lay awake, running over the events of the day in her mind. When her day went awry, finding him was the first thing she thought to do. He was the first person she turned to, the first person she wanted next to her.   
She no longer felt frightened to think of him loving her, but she began to feel guilty about accepting it. He felt something for her that she wasn’t sure she deserved. She didn’t know what to do about it; it was uncharted territory. But she felt the time was coming that she must do something.   
She tossed and turned, and could come to no conclusion. Somehow, she managed to avoid disturbing Jack’s sleep.

Jack awoke the next morning to the pleasant sensation of Phryne’s soft body curled against him. He thought he would never fail to be amazed by it.   
Mornings were Jack’s weakness; he had always favored making love in the morning. Rosie had never cared for it, so he was happy to have found a partner who would indulge him.   
His appreciative sigh must have jostled Phryne enough to wake her, because she opened her gemlike eyes slowly, gazed up at his face, and smiled—a smug smile, to be sure. She lifted her hand from his chest, and ran it down his stubbled cheek, and hummed, as her smile deepened. She let her fingers drag down his throat, across his pectorals, stopping to fluff the hair on his chest. Her eyes had followed her fingers appreciatively all along that path, but now, waking a little more, she remembered her thoughts from the night before. She met Jack’s eyes. Initially, he had seen a seductive look in her eyes, but now her eyes softened and became pensive.  
“What is it?” he asked, and waited calmly for her answer.   
“I’ve been thinking…” Phryne hesitated to go on.   
“Nothing new for you,” he teased. Her active mind had attracted him from the beginning.   
“Oh, don’t go complimenting me!” she said despairingly. “Don’t be charming. I’ve just been thinking, I am not being fair to you at all.”   
Jack frowned. “What do you mean?”   
Phryne took a deep breath: in for a penny, in for a pound. She’d started it, she’d have to finish. Even if she lost her nerve, he wouldn’t let it go. “Jack, you tell me you love me, but…”   
He understood immediately. “I don’t think fairness or unfairness have anything to do with that.”   
“You know I care for you deeply,” she stumbled.   
“I do. Sweetheart—”  
Phryne’s eyes were full of regret. “I’m sorry, Jack. I’m just…afraid to love.” She looked away.  
It took a moment for it to sink in, but when he reacted, she looked up in astonishment. “Are you laughing?”   
His smile was kind, as he said, “No, not laughing at you. But, Phryne—from the first day we met, I’ve watched you opening your heart over and over again: to Dot, when she needed “a clever woman”; to Jane, when she was left all alone; to the cabbies, Mr. Butler…For all your bluster about your Aunt Prudence, you go out of your way to take care of her. As angry as you were with your father, you saw him safely home.   
Phryne, you’re not afraid to love. You’re extravagant in your love! And no wonder you’re cautious about it. There are pieces of your heart all over Melbourne, and who knows where else.”   
Her eyes filled with tears at this remarkable speech. “Oh, Jack.”   
“And to quote someone very dear to me: ‘your heart is as deep as the Pacific Ocean’.” He leaned down to kiss her then, and let events take their course.


	4. Incongruous

Jane came home for a brief visit, and she and Jack spent many happy hours talking about her studies. Jane discovered along the way that he enjoyed chess, as she did herself. That was a game which took too long and was too slow to suit Phryne, so Jane was delighted to find someone to match wits with her over the chessboard.  
One day, while Jack was busy at the station, Jane and Phryne were enjoying tea together, talking of everything and nothing.  
Jane was relating a story she and Jack had been discussing while playing chess. Apropos of that, Jane added, “I have so much fun playing chess with Jack.” She had been given permission to use his name by Jack himself, though he had suggested she seek final approval from Phryne. “He never lets me win or makes it easy like some of the boys I know at school. Of course, some of the others wouldn’t even think a girl should play chess—and some of them wouldn’t be able to play it themselves.” 

Phryne offered an opinion from her hard-won experience. “The ones who don’t know how to do it themselves will be the first to tell you that it’s not fitting for a woman to play it. Even some of the nicer ones will hesitate to let you take part, or join in, in any way.” She sighed. “It’s so rare to find a man who values a woman’s mind, Jane. Take it from me; if you are lucky enough someday to find a man like that, hold on to him! And don’t settle for less.”  
Jane considered this statement. She was careful with her response, but her days with Miss Phryne had taught her to be direct and to speak her mind. “Is that how you feel about Jack?”  
It stopped Phryne in her advice-giving tracks. “Oh. I wasn’t talking about myself, Jane,” she backpedaled.  
“But Jack values _your_ mind.”  
“Yes, he does, but….” Phryne wasn’t sure what the next words were.  
Jane was disappointed. “So I shouldn’t settle for less, but you might?” She frowned. “Sometimes I think I understand adults, but other times I feel like I don’t understand at all.” She rose abruptly and walked from the room.  
It was just as well. Phryne found she had no answer. Jane’s comments kept ringing through Phryne’s consciousness as the day went on. 

In the middle of the night, Phryne found herself awake once again. She pulled a silky sheet up to her shoulders, and plumped a few sumptuous pillows behind her. She gazed around her elegantly appointed boudoir. The moonlight shone romantically through a slit in the curtains. Jack was quietly but decidedly snoring.  
Phryne hated snoring. Once she had actually asked a “visitor” to leave early when he made noises like a buzz saw. It was irritating and interrupted her sleep, and she had no patience with it. She thought it was an indication of how far gone she was, that she thought the gentle snuffles from Jack were endearing.

She regarded the man next to her, who was at this moment anything but a silent partner. Life was so straightforward to him, she thought. You love someone, and you just blurt it out, as if it were that simple. But it wasn’t simple. There were consequences.  
And yet Jack seemed to have taken his stand, and chosen to damn the consequences. He had decided he was willing to settle for a woman who couldn’t say that she loved him, simply because he loved her. 

Phryne frowned. She didn’t like it. Nobody settles for Phryne Fisher, she thought. She would set him straight the next day, see if she didn’t!  
She snuggled up against him, the safe, steady man who had taken up residence in her heart and in her home. Sound asleep, yet he curled toward her, turning his head as he did and ending the snoring. Phryne only missed it a little.


	5. Driving

The next morning, Jack took an early call from Mac, telling him that a body from his jurisdiction had just been delivered to her. He and Phryne finished their breakfast and prepared quickly for the day. This morning they took the police cruiser, so Jack was driving.   
Phryne stared unabashedly at Jack as he drove. She saw him send surreptitious looks her way when he noticed it. At last he asked,   
“Is there something wrong?”  
“No, nothing. Why?”   
“You’re staring at me.”   
“There’s nothing wrong with that, is there?” she asked, with a Cheshire cat smile.  
“I suppose not…”

They drove a little further along. He continued to cast her sidelong glances from under his lashes.   
“Did I miss a spot shaving?” Jack had to ask, when Phryne continued to stare. He ran his hand self-consciously across his face.  
“No. You’re fine. You look fine,” she said, still with that strange smile.   
“Hm.” He gave a slight nod. 

As they neared the morgue, the road was uncommonly congested. Jack applied his attention to maneuvering between a car and a horse-drawn milk truck. “Unusual amount of traffic this morning,” he observed.   
“Yes. Jack?”  
“Mm?” he answered, distracted.   
“I love you.”   
“What!!” He took his eyes off the road and stared at her, then hit the brakes suddenly when he realized the car ahead was slowing down. “And…you chose this moment to tell me?”   
She was still wearing the unusual smile. “Yes.”  
“In traffic?”  
“Yes.”   
“While we’re driving to the morgue?”  
She smiled and shrugged.   
He fought his way through the traffic to find a spot where he could park the car. “Why now?”  
“Why not?”   
He could only stare at her for several moments. “Why not?” he repeated, then he put his head back and laughed. “Why not?”  
She scooted up against him. “Tell me,” he said, “Wouldn’t it have made more sense if I had just carried you out of a burning building, or shielded you from a bullet, or…”  
“Oh!” she said, wrinkling her nose in disgust. “This isn’t a penny dreadful! Besides, that’s not how it works. You taught me that.”   
“I did?” he wondered.   
“It doesn’t take a dramatic event or a moment of terror to make you realize you love someone. It just happens. It just creeps up on you. And all of a sudden, you realize it’s there.”   
He reached for her, and pulled her close. Until that moment, she had always believed that “kissing someone senseless” was just a figure of speech.


	6. Banished

After hearing Phryne’s edited version of this story, Mac looked affectionately at her longtime friend. “I could never have imagined a man like Jack for you, darling,” Mac said wistfully, “but I think you’re a match!” Phryne kissed Mac’s cheek happily.   
Just then, there was a knock at the door and Jack stuck his head back in. “Ladies?” he said questioningly. Mac realized that she and Phryne had been talking for quite a while. Jack seemed to have recovered his equanimity; but with one look at Phryne…  
Mac watched the two of them with their ridiculous smiles and felt she would be overcome by the sweetness in the air.   
“Out! Out! Both of you! Go—anywhere else,” she howled, waving her hands at them. Phryne laughed, and Jack looked puzzled. 

They left, and as they walked down the hall, Mac could hear Jack ask warily, “What have you been telling her?”   
“Only what she needs to know.”   
“And…how much would that be?”   
“Oh, you know. Minute-by-minute details.”   
“Phryne…”   
The voices were fading as they made their way down the hall.   
“Jack, you should trust me by now.”   
“I trust you. And I also know you. Do I have anything to be embarrassed about when I next meet Mac?”   
Very softly now, from very far away, Mac heard her say, “Don’t be silly, darling. I told her all the embarrassing parts months ago.”   
A door closed, and Mac smiled. She couldn’t hear the Inspector any longer…but she didn’t need to.


End file.
